


Thank Fuck For Brad

by zams



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: Humor, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-10
Updated: 2011-08-10
Packaged: 2017-10-22 11:40:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/237640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zams/pseuds/zams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tommy needs some advice about Adam and he asks Brad. That was his first mistake. <em>"I recommend just blowing him. That's always the way to go."</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Thank Fuck For Brad

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt](http://glam-kink.livejournal.com/1444.html?thread=2029988) on glam_kink on LJ.

\---

 _I recommend just blowing him. That's always the way to go._

Tommy reads the text once, twice, and yep, it still says the same thing.

Tommy scowls. Fucking Brad and his annoying sense of humor. He wishes he could strangle him through the phone. He settles for calling Brad some not-so-nice names in his head while he finds Brad's number in his contacts list. Not the most mature response, but fuck it.

Brad picks up before it even completely rings once. "Tommy!" he says happily. "I was hoping you'd call me today."

Tommy doesn't have time for this bullshit and cuts right to the chase. "That's your fucking advice? Just blow him."

"Mmm-hmm," Brad says. Tommy can imagine him lounging in bed, holding his phone with his shoulder and filing his nails. "It's really the best way to deal with Adam. I'd know."

"Are you fucking serious?"

"I'm always serious," Brad says, and Tommy can't believe Brad actually sounds indignant. That is the most ridiculous thing Tommy thinks he's ever heard.

"So you just want me to randomly corner him in the living room, drop to my knees, and suck his cock?" There's heavy sarcasm dripping from each word and Tommy's proud of himself for managing it.

Of course, Brad, the irritating little shit that he is, ignores it. "Or in the kitchen, bathroom, bedroom, pool, wherever. Adam's not fussy about location."

Tommy presses a hand against his forehead and suppresses a groan. He always gets a fucking headache when he talks to Brad. One wonders why. "I can't do that."

"Why not?"

" _Because_."

"Well, that's a helpful answer," Brad says. "I don't see why you're making such a big deal out of this. Adam's stressed from working on his album. What's a better stress reliever than a quick and dirty blow job from his boyfriend? And don't think I won't come over there and blow him myself if I hear you don't."

"I'm not his boyfriend," Tommy says without thinking, and he immediately wants to smack himself for it. That was definitely the wrong thing to say to Brad. Any other time, he'd be happy at shocking Brad into silence, but the ten seconds of absolute quiet over the line is so awkward and so ominous that it feels like an hour, and Tommy blushes, fidgeting while he waits for Brad to respond. This is not going to be good. Fuck.

"What. The. Fuck," Brad says, and Tommy cringes at his tone. "You fucking _live with him_. If that isn't a public announcement of boyfriendness, I don't know what the fuck is."

"We're... friends," Tommy says, the words the truth even though they feel like a lie. Adam's never felt like just his 'friend,' but they've never talked about it. The elephant in the room's gotten very big since Tommy moved in Adam's house three months ago (under the guise that since Tommy's lease was up and Adam was lonely, Tommy should move in - perfectly logical), but he and Adam are champs at avoidance.

"You are pathetic."

Tommy sighs. It's harsh–Brad sounds disgusted, actually–, but Tommy agrees with him. He really is pathetic. And this is Brad; he doesn't sugarcoat anything.

"You're lucky I don't cut your balls off."

Okay, now _that_ was a little harsher than he was expecting. Tommy crosses his legs unconsciously.

"The only thing stopping me is that Adam would be upset if I did," Brad continues offhandedly.

Tommy wonders how Brad sounds so calm and relaxed while threatening bodily harm. It's a gift, it has to be.

"Adam's been in love with you for a long time," Brad says, "and when you moved in with him, I finally took you off my hit list because I thought you'd fucking put him out of his misery and told him you love him too."

The words send a sharp pang deep in Tommy's chest. While on tour, Tommy thought Adam wanted him, but he wasn't sure, and he was too scared to say anything. Then when Adam asked him to move in, Tommy thought that'd be his chance, but he wussed out _again_ , and now he and Adam have been so fucking awkward around each other for weeks, Tommy's losing his mind. Yeah, they live together, but he's never felt so far away from Adam, so out of sync. That's why he texted Brad in the first place - he's desperate for help. Why he thought Brad would be at all sympathetic is beyond him.

 "I-" Tommy tries to say.

"No, you don't get to talk," Brad says so harshly that Tommy doesn't even think about thinking about interrupting him. "You're going to shut the fuck up, listen to me, and follow my directions exactly. If you don't, trust me, you _will_ be sorry."

His shiver is completely justified.

"When I tell you, you're going to hang up the phone and go find Adam. You're going to tell him you're a fucking asshole, that you love him, and that you would really love to suck his cock right now and every night for the next fifty years."

As he's listening to this, Tommy makes a vow: he's never going to piss Brad off again. _Ever_.

"Aren't you?" Brad asks, voice dripping with fake sweetness. Somehow, that's ever scarier than when he sounded angry.

"Yes," he says meekly. There's really no other option; Brad doesn't make idle threats.

"Good boy," Brad praises. "Now hang up."

Tommy doesn't have to be told twice.

\---

Much later, when he's sprawled out on Adam's chest, Adam's hands stroking his sweaty back, Tommy can't stop smiling. He's sore and tired, sticky and too hot, but he's never felt better.

Adam's lips brush over his ear, and Tommy smiles wider.

"What're you smiling about?" Adam asks him, nibbling on his earlobe.

Tommy shivers. "You," he says. “I'm happy.” No point in denying it, even though it's a massive understatement. He feels like his chest's going to burst from how happy he is, how content is he lying in Adam's arms after months and months of pining and thinking he'd never have this.

The reality is really fucking nice.

"Yeah?" Adam asks. "Me too."

There's a wealth of feeling behind the simple words. Tommy shifts so he can look at Adam. He's beaming, face flushed and shiny, hair a complete disaster, make-up smudged, and his eyes are so bright they're shining, finally free of the faint shadow that's been there for too long, and to Tommy, he's never been so gorgeous. Tommy has to kiss him again, and Adam opens up for it, holding Tommy tight against his body.

Tommy rubs himself over Adam, and it earns him a deep groan from Adam when their cocks slide over one another. "You wanna go again?" he asks.

"God. Yes, fuck," Adam says, immediately flipping Tommy on his back and kissing and licking his chest and stomach, hands seemingly everywhere at once.

Tommy moans, arching into it, lightheaded from all the wonderful sensations bombarding him. Adam's hitting all his sensitive spots without even trying. When Adam sucks on a particularly sensitive spot near his hip, he can't help but take a moment and think _Thank fuck for Brad_ How could he have gone so long without this? It's unreal. He closes his eyes and grabs Adam's head and just enjoys having Adam's lips and tongue and hands on him after so long of wanting.

He'll send Brad flowers tomorrow. Or maybe chocolate. The Belgian kind. Or maybe a stripper with flowers (long-stemmed red roses, of course) and Belgian chocolate. Yeah, that's a good idea; Brad deserves it, even though he's a scary fucker who almost made Tommy piss his pants. But it's okay; Tommy'll forgive him because he has Adam now.

And then Adam wraps his lips around Tommy's cock, making embarrassingly needy sounds come from him that he doesn't even care about as Adam bobs his head, and Tommy stops thinking about Brad and anything that's not _Adam_.

 

 **END**


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